


Last Resort

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley Is Satan's Favourite, Fights, Gen, Heaven vs Hell, Pre-Canon, and for once it's a good thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Crowley meets another angel. It doesn't go well.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Anonymous





	Last Resort

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt 100 words of going for the nuclear option

“You’re not who I was expecting,” Crowley said, dodging the swing of the flaming sword in a manner that relied heavily on a fundamental misunderstanding of spines and what it was possible to do with them. It was still a near thing.

He’d thought the miracles he’d been hearing about had been too obvious for Aziraphale, but you couldn’t exactly go against superiors when they decided to stick their noses in, could you? Still, he hadn’t expected –

“Foul beast,” said the angel, in a tone that might have been stern if they bothered to put any actual feeling into it – but why should they, when he was something to be crushed under their heel and forgotten without further notice?

“I bathe,” Crowley said indignantly, and promptly dropped to the floor, swearing, because the angel had obviously never heard of mid-battle banter and had used the moment to try and skewer him. 

He was beginning to suspect that he might be in serious trouble.

“You are an abomination unto the Lord,” the angel informed him, and there was no pause in the immaculate footwork or the ruthless attempts to turn Crowley’s insides into his outsides. “You must be destroyed.”

“Now hold on,” Crowley said, scrambling away from a determined swing he suspected of intentions to return him to his original number of legs, “we’ve had official treaties on record since the Flood—”

He knew them all too, and just how far he could stretch the definitions if he ever needed to – it was better to never be caught but it didn’t hurt to have an alibi or extremely convoluted and boring explanation or six on hand.

“ _Hallelujah_ ,” sang the angel, pure and righteous enough to make his ears ring – and if he hadn’t scraped his face diving into the dirt he might have thought they’d put enough holiness in there to make them bleed too.

“Alright, I can see this isn’t going to work out,” Crowley said, hastily wiping away the blood before it could get any more distracting. “How about – shit! – buddy, do you know how much trouble we’ll be in for – fuck! – unnecessary discorporation, it’s not Genesis any more!”

“You will not return to dust,” the angel said, perfectly even. “You will be utterly destroyed, down to the last unholy atom.”

“I am a field agent of Hell!” Crowley howled, frantic exasperation warring with growing terror. “There are rules!”

“You are detestable in the sight of the Lord,” the angel said.

“Sure, but there are still rules! There’s supposed to be a balance!”

The angel considered it for a moment. “My purpose is to destroy you,” they said. “Therefore it must be yours to be destroyed.”

“Oh, just fuck—” Crowley panted, sliding under the angel’s guard and taking advantage of their momentary shift to defensiveness to start running for the hills, “—all the way off. I’m warning you—”

“Demon,” the angel said, “meet your end with grace. With dignity.” He could have sworn their lip curled ever so slightly.

“How about no,” Crowley said, turning to face them only because he knew his chances of escape were lowering by the second and the need to see them coming was rapidly increasing in importance. Still, he had to at least try to talk his way out of it one last time. The angel was new, after all. They might go for it. “One last chance – put the sword away and we can both go back to our respective sides, admit a skirmish, get a head-shaking at the unnecessary rise in tension levels and temporary reassignation, no big deal. Live and learn, yeah?”

“You will not live,” the angel said.

“And you obviously won’t learn,” Crowley snapped. “Because if you don’t put that blessed sword away I’ll have to do something you won’t live to regret.”

For the first time, the angel showed something approaching an expression – amusement. “How you have troubled the principality for so long I cannot fathom. Perhaps they are in need of reassignment. I shall recommend it when I inform Heaven of your demise. Come,” they said magnanimously. “Be at peace, demon. By holy fire will you be purified.”

“I warned you,” Crowley said, biting the meat of his palm and flicking his hand sharply with a great deal more concentration than might have been expected, splattering blood across the dusty ground.

“You cannot profane me with your tainted blood,” the angel informed him, having taken a step back to avoid it, wrinkling their nose.

“Wasn’t about getting you,” Crowley said. The angel was too new to earth to understand the significance of the sudden temperature change, but they clearly sensed something, halting mid-step with a look of consternation that took a very satisfying nosedive into fear. “Was about getting someone else.”

_YOU BROUGHT ME A PLAYTHING, CROWLEY? HOW DELIGHTFUL._


End file.
